


Complement

by jmtorres



Series: Complement [1]
Category: Farscape
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-07-02
Updated: 2003-07-02
Packaged: 2017-10-20 21:09:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jmtorres/pseuds/jmtorres
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Welcome to Earth. Says the Ancient.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Complement

**Author's Note:**

> Rough around the edges but as finished as it's getting.

"John," his father said, "I have a confession to make."

John squinted at Jack. He wasn't looking at John, was stroking the shining ribs of Moya's corridors with a faintly regretful expression. "Yeah?" he asked warily.

Jack let his hand drop and turned to look at John, moving slowly. Jack's hair had already been silvered when John had been swallowed up by his first wormhole, his face had already been lined; but he had a _weariness_ to him now. John was guiltily afraid he had caused that in his father by his absence, by the loss of a son taken unwilling. John already knew he wasn't going to stay on Earth, and feared what a second loss would do to his father.

"I am not," Jack began quietly, "entirely who you think I am. Among other things, I am also," he finished heavily, "the Ancient who implanted the wormhole knowledge in your brain."

" _Jack?_ " John asked in disbelief.

"The same," Jack confirmed.

"But you died!" John protested.

Jack shook his head. "I was weakened, especially after having expended so much energy on the neural clone. I needed time to heal, but I wasn't dead. I understand why you must have assumed so when I dropped this form, but--"

"So this isn't Earth," John interrupted, coldly. He wasn't interested in hearing more about Dam-ba-da; he did his best on a daily basis to forget what had happened there, to his other self, to Aeryn.

"It's Earth," Jack replied.

"Then where's my father?" John demanded intensely.

"John," Jack said gently, "I _am_ your father."

John stared at him a moment, taking in his earnest look, before tittering. "You've seen _Star Wars._ "

Jack's mouth did something like an 'o' of surprise, something like a smile, squashed in realization of its inappropriateness. He said, finally, "In the theater, with you and DK, in 1977."

"But _Empire Strikes Back_ \--" John pointed out.

"--we rented later," Jack agreed, "because you didn't want to see it when it came out, because--"

"--the sequel is never as good as the original," John agreed. He paused. "Okay, that was better than the fish thing, but let's face it, you knew everything in my head to begin with. How 'bout we go back to what the frell do you mean, you're my father?"

"You used wormholes when you left Dam-ba-da," Jack answered. "Even in my weakened state, I could feel it when you moved several light-years instantaneously. You weren't ready for that, so I tried to follow you. I figured you would come here. I screwed up the timing, though."

"Arrived a few decades too early..." John agreed. His other self had been using wormholes?

"I realized my mistake too late," Jack continued. "I had abandoned my  
spacecraft to avoid capture--"

"Don't tell me," John said. "1947, Roswell, New Mexico."

"1964," Jack countered. "Fort Riley, Kansas."

"Never heard of it, but go on," John replied.

"Without my ship," Jack continued, "I couldn't reach the wormhole in orbit to come forward in time to find you."

"So you joined the space program," John said. He blinked. "You somehow managed to dupe everyone into believing you were human, and joined IASA."

Jack inclined his head. "I had all the information I needed from you."

Which was bullshit; John didn't know everything about his father's life, every detail of every mission. Jack had probably mind-whammied a few people or something. Drawn from their memories of other successful candidates and regurgitated it back to them? John put it aside for the moment to ask, "So why didn't you? Go find me, or go back to the new Ancient homeworld, or whatever--once you got up here, to the wormhole?"

"By that point, on a shuttle you knew your father had been on and bearing his name, I had begun to suspect that there was no Jack Crichton if I wasn't him," Jack replied. "I came to the conclusion that I had to remain here, to father you, to prevent temporal paradox."

"And then let me go," John extrapolated, angry. "Let's say I believe you--you let me _go_ out there, let--let--everything that happened, happen to me-- _why_? Are you--if you are really are my father, if you love me at all--" Oh, he was being petulant, but that had scored a hit. Jack's eyes glistened with hurt, and looked aside briefly, as if to hide his expression. "Why did you let me fly the Farscape mission?" John demanded.

"Because the alternative was your never having been born," Jack answered, "and I couldn't allow that not to happen."

" _After_ I'd been born--" John said. "After you'd already fathered me, why did you--"

"John," Jack cut him off. "I came to Earth because I had met you out there. If you had never gone, I would never have met you, and never have come here, and you would never have been born, and I still never would have met you. This isn't like the so-called grandfather paradox, which would remain a paradox because it would loop. When paradox is introduced to non-linear causality, it tends to resolve into a more stable linear causality whenever possible, and quickly ceases to be a paradox."

It fit. The equations in John's head lit up like letters on the Wheel of Fortune board. If Harvey had been there, he surely would have popped in as Vanna White. John closed his eyes and said, "Thank you for ensuring my existence."

After a soft pause, Jack replied, "You're welcome."

"Jack--" John said. He leaned on one of Moya's ribs, rested his temple on her warm copper flesh.

"Yes, son?" Jack asked.

"I have a confession to make," John said. "I am not entirely who you think I am, either."

"What are you talking about?" Jack asked, bemused.

John couldn't decide what compelled him to this; honoring Jack's honesty with trust, or revenging the unwanted knowledge with his own false gift.

Jack had decided to father him to prevent a paradox. A cold decision: inhuman.

Jack was his father, and loved him too much to let paradox wipe him out.

John nearly backed out, nearly said, _Ha ha, fooled you,_ but when he opened his eyes, Jack was looking at him with expectant curiosity. John knew that whatever his motive for telling the truth might be, it was now too late to lie. "I was never at Dam-ba-da with you. I was--twinned, shortly before that--two copies, original and equal, or so the mad scientist guy claimed--"

"And you're saying the other--copy--was the one I went with to see Furlow?" Jack asked slowly.

John nodded. "He didn't use wormholes to leave, not unless you can take a wormhole to the great beyond--"

"He died?" Jack said. His voice flattened in horror.

John nodded again. "Radiation, from the displacement engine--"

Well, _that_ had twisted the knife, John realized, guilty. Jack's face closed, cold. He answered, analytically, logically, "Then the shift in location I perceived was in fact merely a shift in my awareness from his location to yours, when he--died."

"I'm sorry," John said, sincerely. "Maybe I shouldn't have told you. Maybe I--" He bit his thumb. If he was going to stick with honesty, it might as well be necessary honesty now. "It was cruel of me to tell you that you've lost one son, because you're going to lose another."

"You're leaving," Jack said, still flat.

John nodded, suddenly regretful. "Those years out there--they changed me. Earth isn't my home anymore. This ship--" He stroked Moya gently. "These people, they're home now."

"I know," said Jack.

There was a long, awkward silence. "You could come with us," John suggested.

Jack smiled a painful smile at that, lines deepening at the corners of his eyes. "No, I couldn't. The years here changed me, as well. Earth _is_ my home, now."

John nodded. "I think I envy you," he said, slightly hoarse.

"I love you," Jack replied, simply.

John looked away, pressing his knuckles to his eye. "I love you, too," he said, then added, softly, "Dad."


End file.
